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It's just past midnight as we pull in to yet another rest stop in Middle-America. A foggy haze lingers in the air as the parking stalls bask in the street lights' tangerine glow. Moths thump and swirl around the glowing bulbs and fireflies drift silently and gracefully up from the grass and through the trees, casting their magic upon all those who dare gaze.

The gravel crackles under our tires as the van rolls slowly into it's spot and the engine shuts off. It's quiet, but only for a moment as our ears adjust and the hum-drum-rumbles of the surrounding 18 wheelers fill the night air. At first I find myself miffed by their inconsideration of my peaceful roadside moment, but within minutes my level of understanding raises along with the internal temperature of our van.

The freeway carries on it's familiar hum as we descend from the Rocky Mountains into the Denver valley. We find ourselves in a road-coma as we begin the physical and mental recovery from the last 3 days of brain-melting bass music and craziness at the Sonic Bloom electronic music festival.

Upon breaching the city barrier, we decide to pull over, find a park and further develop our plans of reanimation. While driving towards the nearest park, Meisha's nose suddenly begins to gush blood. We frantically grab any visible absorbent materials and pull over to assess the situation. Meisha's nose has never been a fan of dramatic altitude changes and doesn't seem to appreciate the drop from 10,000 to 5,000 feet.

This little incident is finally enough to convince us to do the unthinkable.Read more